


In Jest

by DictionaryWrites



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Asgardian Humor, Betting, Humor, Pranks, Tricks, Trickster!Loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 03:47:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10958997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: Fandral takes Loki up on a wager he is certain the other cannot win: he is wrong.





	In Jest

Fandral frowns at Loki across the game table, and Loki smiles - quite beatifically, and  _most_ innocently - back at him. "You doubt me, dear Fandral? Surely not!"

"I doubt your sanity," Fandral retorts, moving one of his pieces across the board in a most predictable fashion, but Loki knows better than to expect a challenge, and Fandral knows better than to expect a victory - or at least, he ought. "Even for so calculated a trickster as yourself, the wager is obscene."

"I ask you again, Fandral: do you doubt me?" Loki cannot help but show his teeth now, tasting his coming win upon the air. Fandral is frustrated and confused as he tries to puzzle it out, and after a moment he slams his pretty, be-ringed hand upon the table.

"No man can wield the power of Thor, Loki," Fandral hisses. "You mean to tell me you can lift Mjölnir?"

"Easily, Fandral, can I wield the power of my dear brother. That is my wager - your pretty new sword against my secreted ability, and my honour." Loki would be offended by Fandral's scoff were it not well-earned.

"You will lose. It is unfair to challenge you."

"And yet here I sit, confident and smiling." Fandral sets his lovely jaw. Were Hogun, Volstagg and Sif here with them, rather than out upon the balcony, Fandral might not take the bet: he might be dissuaded by Sif's sarcastic warnings, or by Hogun's perceptive stare, but Loki has chosen his moment well.

"My new sword against your hair, highness," the title is used with the most irony possible, "You will be shorn as a sheep at springtime."

"As you wish," Loki replies mildly, and he stands. "Thor!" he calls as he steps from the room and out onto the balcony, using a sweet tone. Thor, who sits in a carved chair, glances up from his ministrations on his boots, seeming amused and grateful for the distraction - he shows none of the caution Loki sees on the faces of the other warriors.

"Aye, brother."

"Have you Mjölnir?" Tilting his head, Thor seems bemused, and he lifts the hammer in his left hand. "Marvelous," Loki declares, and without sparing another moment, he lunges.

Catching Thor under his thickly-muscled thighs, Loki ignores the sudden yell from Volstagg and heaves his brother from the old chair, lifting him with ease upon his shoulder and supporting him there. Standing straight, Loki is almost apologetic for the lacking broadness in his shoulders compared to Thor's ridiculous backside, but he doesn't appear to mind as he laughs wnd sets his palm upon Loki's head to balance himself, his legs swinging.

"Oh, no," Fandral moans as the realisation dawns, his blue eyes wide. "No, Loki, that's not fair-"

"Fandral, dear Fandral - am I not wielding the power of my brother? Have you not witnessed his heft upon my shoulder, like a greatsword?"

Fandral groans louder, burying his face in his hands, and Loki hears Thor's bellowing, booming laughter above him; Hogun's lips are quirked into an amused smile, and Sif is hiding her sniggers behind her hand. Volstagg is grinning himself - they are all strangely forgiving when Loki's mischief is directed at Fandral, perhaps because of Fandral's occasional forays into the art himself. "I take my leave of you!" Fandral snaps, sulkily, and his new sword clatters to the ground as he turns on his heel - he will undoubtedly return within the hour.

"You are a worthy weapon, brother," Loki says, with triumph, as Thor hops neatly to the ground. "My thanks for playing along."

"You are as sharp as the knives you carry, Loki, and as wicked as your poisons!" Thor replies, clapping him affectionately upon the back, and Loki takes his leave of his brother and friends and leans to take his prize from the floor.

It's rather gaudy, in truth, as Fandral's playthings are wont to be, and too long for Loki to wish to wield himself...

The only question now is where Loki might best display it.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, hope you enjoyed that! Check [this link](http://dictionarywrites.tumblr.com/post/160853818533/request-commission-information) out if you’re interested in making a request.


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